Lady of the Knight
by Fierce Lady 2
Summary: She shouldn't have been there, but she was. She should have controlled her anger, but she couldn't. She shouldn't have slapped him when so many other means of punishment were available, but oh how he deserved it!
1. Chapter 1

**New Author's Note: I hope my old followers can re-find this story here. I am unable to login to my old account and so am re-posting it here. And I hope all my new followers enjoy! Thank you!**

**Author's Note: This is my first King Arthur fic. And only my second fanfic on here. I don't know if this is any good. But I would really love to know if you think it is. This is a test I guess. Depending on the response and how many reviews/alerts I get, I may or may not continue this story. So please let me know what you think! I'm like tinkerbell! I need applause to live!**

_Chapter 1 The beginning_

If you only knew what I've been through. If you had seen the things I've seen and felt the things I've felt, perhaps you wouldn't judge so harshly. At the age of seven, I watched in agonized silence as Britons murdered my father before my eyes. Not a death of glory and battle, like the stories he would tell at night under the stars, but one of brutality. Death for the sake of killing. They forced me to watch, to hear the screams, my father begging to die long before his wish was granted. Me they tied, like a hog for butcher, and lay just feet from the man I had almost worshipped in my earliest years. I watched his life slip away as hour after hour passed, silent tears leaking from my eyes. By the time the sun rose, it's rays shone on a scene of hatred and destruction, blood and pain and death.  
It was then that I knew that I was born for this life. It was then, in the new morning sun, that my decision was made.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

"We were months away from the last village before it finally got out, before the Roman guards noticed there was something off."  
"And still weeks more before the commander figured out what it was!" Lancelot added, laughing heartily at the memory of the Roman leader's discomfort.

Galahad smiled widely, glancing at the knight sitting against the wall, smirking, and drinking from a pitcher, before continuing his story. "He came storming out of his tent one night, yelling for us all to line up. He was seething. We could all see it, and we knew one of us was getting a beating to remember. After all the boys were lined up, he instructed us to drop our pants. We all thought he was insane, but we did it anyway. Except one." Here he grinned and took a drink of his ale as Vanora's children yelled for him to continue.

At that moment Gawain sat down next to Galahad and said, "I was standing next to him. I remember whispering for him to drop his pants, but he just looked at me angrily and took a step away from me. The commander stepped up to him and insisted that he remove his pants and the boy just looked up at him and said, "Why? You want to compare lengths?" At that Bors burst out laughing and Vanora grabbed a few of the youngest and pulled them away with a word about "such things in little ones minds."

"The commander, furious by this time, backhanded the boy so hard that he fell over. Then he pulled the boy's pants down for everyone to see...that it wasn't a boy at all." The children screamed with laughter.

"We were all in such shock as the commander grabbed the girl's arm and hauled her into his tent, we just stood there half naked in the dark until one of the guards finally told us to pull up our pants and go to bed." Galahad finished.

"But what about the girl?" Asked Gilly.

"Well, we could hear the commander shouting at her. But he was so angry I don't know if even she could make out what he was saying. There were sounds of things crashing around in his tent, and then she came stumbling out like she'd been shoved. She was limping and had a hand on her face as she made her way to her bed."

Lancelot piped in, "But she was smiling. The man had beaten her nearly senseless, and she was smiling as she limped to bed."

Galahad continued, "The next day, when we all went down to the stream to get water for the morning, there she was with a cloth in her hand dabbing at a cut just under her eye. The left side of her face was black and blue, her eye swollen nearly shut. And she just grinned at us all like an idiot."

"Was it Agravaine who helped her?" Galahad looked askance at Gawain.

"Bedivere."

All eyes turned to the knight sitting against the wall.

"It was Bedivere who helped me." With a grin, she added, "The rest of you were too chicken to come near me after you found out I was a girl. Though I still don't see why, I had already seen everything there was to see."

At that she stood and walked over to where the children were watching in awe as the story unfolded. The look on her face became very serious as she leaned down, resting her fists on the table and looming over the kids sitting on the other side. "And that, my darlings, is how I tricked the Romans into making a girl a knight. Now. It's time for you to go to bed."

The children groaned as one and began begging for more stories. But with a hand held up to stop them, and a shake of her head, they quieted and shuffled off to bed. "I will never understand why that story is so entertaining to you all." She sighed as she sat down with one leg on each side of the bench that Galahad and Gawain were sitting on.

"Because it's bloody funny!" laughed Bors. "You were the first one of us to make the Romans regret this damn contract!"

"It could also be because it was the first story to be had among us. Up to then we had no adventures, no stories, not together at least." Gawain put in, "Does it bother you that we like that story?"

She smiled at Gawain and replied, "No, I suppose it doesn't bother me. It's the only part of that month of my life that I care to remember. I was so relieved that we were far enough away from the villages that they couldn't just take me back. That's why I was always "grinning like an idiot", as you put it Galahad. The next days and weeks were hell though. I had a heck of a time convincing the commander that I was to be a knight and not a bed-friend for him or the other guards. I was lucky."

"Lucky we all liked you enough to put up a fight when he had beaten it out of YOU." Bors quipped. Storane just smiled and raised and eyebrow at him.

"It's not as if I haven't said thank you a thousand times over to each of you...in different ways."

They all smiled at that. Just then Tristram walked in to the tavern. "Arthur wants to see you Bors."

"Huh. I wonder what's going on," he mumbled as he lumbered off to meet Arthur.

Galahad looked at Tristram. "Want to take part in a little challenge, Tristram?"

Tristram just raised an eyebrow.

"Daggers." Was Galahad's reply.

"You been practicing?"

Galahad chuckled as he stood up and walked over to his usual throwing position. Storane stood to follow him over, watching and sipping ale from the pitcher in her right hand.

Galahad took careful aim and flung his hand out, sending the dagger straight into the eye of the target. But before it had even stopped quivering from the hit Tristram's knife landed with a thud in the very center of the hilt of Galahad's dagger. Galahad grimaced at Tristram's display and was about to say something when another thud was heard. Both men turned to look at the target and found that there was now a third dagger, this one sticking out from the hilt of Tristram's knife in the same way as his was from Galahad's. The three knives swayed from the force of the hit as everyone looked at them. Then all heads turned to look at Story, taking a drink of her ale, standing a few feet behind Galahad and to the left. She grinned at everyone and did a little bow. Sauntering forward, she winked at Tristram as she walked past him and grabbed her dagger, pulling it from the other two.

"I'm going to bed." She glanced over at Gawain. "Gawain, may I have a word with you before you retire for the night?" And with that, she moved off in the direction of her room, hips swaying.

Gawain took one last drink of his ale and smiled as he followed her out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-The way to win...sort of.

They left me there to die. I assume they believed an injured child of seven would have no way to fend for herself and so would die of hunger or thirst or infection. But Lady Luck was on my side that day. I didn't die. I dragged my aching body to a stream near my village and simply laid in the water, not having the strength for anything else. I let the stream rinse my wounds and occasionally I would turn my head to the side and take a mouthful of the cool water. I have no idea how long I laid there with my eyes closed, reliving all that had happened. Eventually I forced myself to my feet and staggered back to the village. I found food in one of the houses that had not completely burnt down. I ate. I slept. And when I woke it was to the murmer of voices. A hunting party from another tribe had seen the smoke from my village's destruction and came to investigate. They built a makeshift stretcher and carried me back with them. A woman nursed me back to health. From time to time she would ask me questions; what was my name, what happened to my village, ect. But I would just look at her, and the pain in my eyes would send her away.

XOXOXOXOXO

Story opened her eyes to the early morning light. She was in her room, in her bed, wrapped in one of her blankets. She pushed the blanket down and sat up, twisting her head side to side, stretching the muscles. Looking over her shoulder at the lump on the other side of the bed that was Gawain, she grinned and stretched out her arm. Placing her hand just in the middle of his back, she shoved...hard. And he hit the ground...hard. "Get up." She snickered as he groaned.

Standing, she walked over to the pile of clothes on the floor and began pulling her pants on. "Why? Why do you do that to me?" She snorted a laugh, "Because it's so much fun to hear you groan like that." Gawain stood up and walked over to her. Grabbing her wrist as she was in the middle of tying the string on her pants, he pulled her into his chest. He had her pinned against him with both her arms behind her back and he growled playfully in her ear, "You know there are much funner ways to make me groan."

Story smiled and twisted lithely out of his grasp. He made to grab her again and she simply swatted his hand away. "Do you want some food? There's bread on the shelf, and dried meat if you'd like." She pulled on a shirt and began pouring herself a glass of mulled wine. Taking a bite of bread, Gawain just looked at her for a second. "Wine?" he said. "This early in the morning?" She just winked at him and finished the drink in one swallow. "I'm going to the arena. I'll see you later." And with that she walked out. Gawain just laughed and took another bite.

As she walked down the stairs to the dirt road that ran in front of her room she began whistling a little tune. She spotted Lancelot heading to the stables and shouted after him, "Lancelot! Sleep well?" He gave her his most roguish grin and replied, "Aye! And you?" She just smiled at him and nodded, continuing toward the training arena.

When she arrived, she grabbed her weapons from the shelf where she kept most of them, and placed them about herself in their various sheaths and holsters. When she was done she had no less than six daggers, a sword (similar to Tristram's, though shorter), a quiver and bow and a wicked-looking axe. She was by no means proficient with all of them, but she preferred to be prepared and so continued to train with all of them, just in case.

Her true weapons, though, were the daggers. They required more finesse in battle. They could be thrown or used in hand to hand combat. Daggers could be used to block a blow or to strike one, and to Story they just didn't seem as messy as the other weapons she carried. She loved the way the perfectly balanced knife felt in her hand, like an extension of her arm. After gathering all her things she went out into the arena to practice. She knew Galahad would be there with his bow, practicing since first light as every day.

"I see you're equipped for a full day," he said as he pulled the string of his bow and took aim at a target 50 yards away. Galahad was an excellent shot and Story took note of his stance, his relaxed shoulders, the way he breathed when he held a bow in his hand. Galahad felt about his bow the way Story felt about her daggers.

"We'll see, I guess. It sort of depends on whether you can keep up with me or not." Galahad breathed out and let fly his arrow. It struck the target dead center.

He turned and looked at her. "You mean us..." and he glanced over her shoulder at the knight standing there.

Without turning around, she sighed, "You can stop trying to be sneaky Tristram, I know you're there. I heard you walk in."

"No you didn't," he replied smuggly.

Story whirled towards him, drawing her short sword as she turned, and crashing it down against his, already drawn and waiting. He grunted with the impact of the two swords meeting, but he held her there. Both breathing a little heavily, she glared at him. How she hated that he could anticipate her every move so easily! Then, suddenly, a thought occured to her and she grinned internally. Still glaring, she twisted her sword and pushed away from him at the same time. He attacked and she barely had time to block before his next attack came at her. She gritted her teeth and waited for her next opportunity. They sparred with each other, first one attacking, then the other, but mostly Tristram. Then she saw him swing his sword in a overhanded attack and lifted her sword to meet his yet again.

As the swords met, crossing between them, Story used her left hand to grab both hilts and shoved them to the right, pushing both blades harmlessly away, and let go of her sword. She was already only inches away and she leaned forward, kissing Tristram hard on the lips. He stiffened in surprise for a moment and then dropped his sword and stepped into her, putting one hand on her neck to pull her closer.

Just then he felt something and stopped kissing her. Story pulled back, breathless and smiling. Her eyes shined with mirth as she stepped away from him. He just looked at her curiously as he raised his hands in the air. In her right hand, held against his low abdomen, was one of her beloved daggers, nudging him to step back. He did.

"Say it." Story commanded, grinning for all she was worth.

"You're a bastard. You know that, right?" he said.

She just smiled wider, "Yea. Isn't it great? Now say it." And she twisted the dagger a little, slicing through his shirt and a few layers of skin.

"You win, Story." The way he said her name made her want to purr.

Okay. Now PLEASE review! Let me know what you think! Good, bad, or ugly! I just want some feedback! I'm like tinkerbell! I need applause to live!


	3. Chapter 3

As always, I don't own anything but Story. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 To love...sort of.

I grew to love the woman. We rarely spoke, but she took care of me. In time, she stopped asking questions. I told her my name, but never bothered with other details. She had a son. He was a bit younger than me, and in time I grew to love him too. He was a frail thing, small for his age, and sickly. They were my family.

I remember the day the Romans came for him. The woman was so scared. She cried and cried. The boy had been sick for weeks, weak beyond measure, bedridden.

When the messenger came in with news of the Roman, the woman nearly fainted with grief. I went over to the corner where my pallet lay. I pulled out my dagger that I used for hunting and began cutting off pieces of my hair until it vaguely resembled an unkempt boy's hair. I had not yet "blossomed" into my womanly figure as I was only 14. I layered on my clothes to hide what figure I did have, wrapped the sheath for my dagger around my waist, grabbed my staff and walked out the door.

I remember a few of the men watching me go. We all knew that if the Roman found out about me I would be sent back or worse, killed. And as this silent understanding passed through my adopted village in a heartbeat, I heard one of the men shout, "RUUUUUUUUUS!" As others took up the cry, I looked back once and smiled for the first time in a long time.

XOXOXOXOXO

Galahad came up beside Story as she watched Tristram leave the arena. "Well that was a new one."

She smiled at him. "I don't spar with him very often, and it's even more rare that I win. I take what I can get."

"And give nothing back." He turned to her, "He's a poor loser you know."

"I know. That's why I beat him. That's why I never let him take the win if I can help it. He fights like he wants to die, like there's nothing to live for. And when I do beat him...I guess I just hope he'll see that he's not invincible. It makes him try harder when we're out there..." she got a faraway look in her eyes.

"Story...why don't you go to him?" Galahad asked cautiously.

Her head snapped around and she stared hard at him. "What do you mean?" There was a warning in her voice.

"He would let you, you know. He's not as harsh as he seems. He would forgive y-" but he didn't get to finish what he was saying. Suddenly the world was spinning and he felt himself hit the ground. His lip was busted and already beginning to swell where she had hit him.

Her eyes narrowed and she loomed over him. Pointing a finger at his chest, she said through clenched teeth, "There is nothing to forgive."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry Galahad." She reached out a hand to help him up and he took it. When he gave her a questioning look and fingered the cut on his lip where her ring had caught him, she just laughed mirthlessly. "Like you said, he's a poor loser. He's had plenty of opportunities..."

Galahad touched her arm lightly and she turned to face him. He leaned forward and kissed her softly but passionately.

When he pulled away she smiled at him.

"You see? That's how I know," he said. She frowned, confused. "You don't look at any of us the way you look at him." Story frowned more and looked away from Galahad. "And you don't kiss anyone the way you kissed him just now." She took a deep breath and shook her head. "And Tristram...well, he doesn't kiss anyone." She looked a bit surprised at that. "I know it might seem crazy to you. But in the ten years I've known Tristram, I have never seen him kiss anyone...until today."

Story sighed. "You don't get it Galahad. He isn't interested. Not anymore. Not since..." She shook her head again. "Nevermind. I'm done for the day. I'll be at the tavern if you need a challenge later." She grinned at him.

Story made her way to the tavern, her thoughts lost in the past. When she arrived she waved at Vanora who nodded at her, and then sat down at a table.

"You're here early," Vanora quipped as she sat down a plate of food and a mug of ale in front of Story.

"Bad morning. Needed something to take the edge off," she said then stuffed food into her mouth.

Vanora looked at her, knowing there was more to it, but quietly waiting.

Storane looked thoughtful for a moment as she chewed, and then, swallowing, she asked, "What would you do...if your heart and blood and life laid in the hands of fifteen amazing men?" Then she laughed and laughed, so hard tears began streaking down her face. Vanora laughed too.

Eventually the laughter died down til she just chuckled a little and wiped at the tears.

Vanora stood up and came around the table. She took Storane's head in her hands and kissed her gently on the forehead, then looked her hard in the eyes. "I'd feel like the luckiest woman in the world. But I would also wonder...where does my soul belong?" And with that she went back to her work.

Story took a drink of her ale and felt in a daze. Her eyes wandered around the tavern until they fell on Tristram. She hadn't even known he'd come in until she saw him. It made her anger well up inside her that he could catch her off guard so easily.

She finished her mug of ale and set it down carefully as not to brake it in anger. She stood, carefully, pushing back the bench she had been sitting on and walked over to him with smooth, measured steps.

When she stood directly in front of him she had to look just slightly up into his eyes. And before she even realised what she was doing, her hand flicked out and she slapped him across the face.

Okay. I know this one is a bit heavy. And its early on. I very nearly just went with it and jumped right into the whole Story/Tristram thing. But I realised there needed to be more to the story. And also, I know she's kind of emotional and girly for a knight...but she is also a girl...soooo...I don't know. Let me know what you think! Does it make sense? Sort of? Hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4...First mission...sort of.

After the Romans discovered I was a girl, my life became a hell I had not dreamt of.

After my face healed from the beating I'd gotten when the commander made his discovery, he sent the guards for me. They brought me to his tent. I was scared, but defiant. I had an idea what the commander wanted. I had heard the other boys whisper things about it, but never details. It was something they all wanted, but I didn't really understand the desire. I had heard of men, cruel and abusive, who took it forcefully from women. Those men were punished. At least, some of them were.

The Roman invited me to sit at his table. I was wary of a trick, but I knew his temper too well to disobey him. He dismissed the guards and sat at the head of the table, taking a glass of wine.

"Please, have some wine." He glanced at the goblet filled with red liquid in front of me. I cautiously reached out and grabbed it, pulling it to my lips and taking a sip. He laughed at my shyness. I could tell he had already had plenty of the wine. It wasn't uncommon for him to get drunk on our trek north. He took a gulp from his goblet and made a motion with his other hand. A servant appeared and put a plate in front of him and then one in front of me. My eyes widened with surprise. I hadn't seen so much food in one place for as long as I could remember. He chuckled again at the look on my face and took a bite of his food. When I saw this, I realised how hungry I was and began eating with earnest.

"Yes. Eat. We must get you into better...physical...shape." I didn't notice the hint in his voice. I was too busy stuffing food in my mouth as fast as I could chew it. When the meal was gone and I was satisfied, I sat back in my chair, comfortable, eyelids drooping. The Roman stood from his place and made his way around the tent, slowly extinguishing candles. Then he came towards me, his hands he placed on the back of my chair.

"Would you like to sleep now?" I nodded slowly. I stood and strode toward the tent flap, heading toward my own bed. But he stopped me with a hand on my arm. My eyes widened and I looked at him. He smiled at me and pointed to a large bed in the corner. I looked at it and then back at him. He smiled at me again and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I was beginning to feel nervous though I didn't know why. I looked down at my feet. The commander stepped closer to me and I began to shiver.

I could smell the wine on his breath as he lifted my chin with a finger and looked into my eyes. He leaned toward me more and I grimaced and stepped away from him. I could tell that that made him angry by the way his hand lashed out and struck my face. I stumbled backward and tripped over something. He came toward me again and grabbed the front of my shirt, hauling me to my feet. I stumbled as he dragged me across the floor and threw me down on the bed. He began pulling off his robes in a hurry. I scrambled to the side of the bed and was about to start running towards the door when something hard cracked against the side of my head. I fell limply onto the bed, groaning.

There was a loud thud and the sound of a body hitting the floor. I groaned again when I felt gentle arms pick me up under my shoulders and knees, like a child. I felt myself slipping in and out of consciousness as my head lolled side to side, bumping against the mysterious person's chest. I heard a rustle of canvas, like a tent flap opening and closing. Then the cold, outside air hit my face and I gasped, opening my eyes. As I looked up, my eyes connected with those of a boy. Intense, hazel eyes with dark brown flecks. Then my vision drifted as blackness overcame me. The last thing I remember seeing was a dark brown braid.

XOXOXOXOXO

She shouldn't have been there, but she was. She shouldn't have baited him, but she did. It wasn't in her nature to slap a man when so many other means of punishment were available, but oh he deserved it.

Tristram's face turned to the side and he made a soft grunting sound when her hand connected with his cheek. She watched him turn back towards her. Her breathing was heavy in her rage and her heart pounded in her ears. As his eyes slowly found hers, she could see his nostrils flare slightly and she tensed, ready for whatever his reaction might be. He stared at her for a second, then stepped closer to her. She could feel his breath on her face as she glared up into his eyes. Scowling back at her he leaned down and softly brushed his lips against hers.

Story's hard demeanor melted away and she leaned into the kiss, deepening it. She felt his hands caress the sides of her face and his fingers slowly run through her hair, tangling in the back and pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled his body into hers.

"Knights." Arthur's voice boomed over the low din of the tavern. Story released Tristram and stumbled backward, gasping for breath. She caught herself against a table and turned to look at Arthur. He looked back at her and smiled slightly. As she glanced around the tavern she noticed several other of the knights had come in for breakfast.

"Our services have been requested. There is a Roman family coming this way from Rome. We are to ride out and meet them, relieving the Roman escort that was sent with them. From there we will provide their protection all the way to their new estate to the north of the wall." At that, several of the knights began murmuring angrily. A million thoughts raced through Story's head. North of the wall? That's Woad territory...

"We leave within the hour." Arthur turned and strode out with his last words.

Story looked at Tristram. He looked back at her and then walked out after Arthur. She rushed out in his wake, hurrying to keep up. Once she caught up to him she grabbed his arm and spun him towards her.

"What was that?" she gasped.

His eyebrow rose and he cocked his head to the side a little, "A kiss." And then he started walking again.

She grabbed his arm again and he stopped and looked at her questioningly. Her eyes narrowed at him. "I MEAN, where did it come from? Since when do you kiss...anyone?"

"Since this morning." Her jaw worked but no words came out. She could feel her anger building at his nonchalance over this.

"We have to go," he said simply and walked away once more. Story stood there for a moment, collecting her anger and gritting her teeth. The man was infuriating!

Then Lamorak walked past, eyeing her and grinning widely. "Nice display in the tavern." She grinned sheepishly and walked over to him.

"Well it just so happens that I like displays. You of all people should know that." Reaching up, she ran her thumb over his bottom lip and then licked her own. He smiled at her and groaned softly.

"You are a tease."

"Yes. And you love it." Her own smile widened. "Shall we go prepare?"

He put one hand on her hip and pulled her to his side. "We shall." They walked, talking and laughing, the rest of the way to the stables. She caught Tristram's eye as they walked past and just kept on going.

Okay. I think this chapter was a bit longer that my others have been. I know the flashback is much longer, but I needed to put more into it to make it all clear. I hope you all like this one! Let me know what you think! I'm like tinkerbell! I need applause to live!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 First Battle...Sort of.

When I woke I was in my tent, the one I shared with Bedivere and a few other boys. Bedivere was sitting next to my bed, eating something. He saw me open my eyes and smiled at me. His voice was deep for a boy of 15. "Be careful. Don't move around too quickly. You took a nasty bash to the side of your head."

It was soothing to hear him speak. He'd been nearly my constant companion since the morning after the Romans discovered me.

"You've got a bit of luck it seems. The commander drank too much and we're not moving camp until tomorow. Word from the servants is that he must have fallen and hit his head after sending you away." He grinned at me. "But judging from the bump on the side of your head you didn't make it very far on your own." I looked at him questioningly. "You've got some sort of spirit protecting you."

I shook my head slowly, careful not to cause more pain. "It wasn't a spirit. It was a boy-"

"Shhh. You bumped your head pretty hard. It was a spirit Storm...er, Storane." He still had a hard time remembering I was a girl. "Go back to sleep. I'll find you something to eat."

After that some time passed. The Roman waited a week and then tried again. I was able to fend him off myself that time. I bit and kicked and hit him, but it wasn't until my foot came in contact with his groin that I was able to escape. The next day I asked Bedivere to teach me how to fight.

I could handle my dagger well enough since I'd been hunting on my own for years. But hand to hand was different. He taught me that speed could outdo strength if used correctly. He taught me to wait, to be patient, to throw my blows effectively instead of in large quantities. And each time the commander would have me brought to his tent, it was a little easier to get away.

Until the last time.

XOXOXOXO

She didn't even glance at him for the rest of the trek south to meet the Roman family. She rode amongst all the knights, talking and laughing as much as ever. Even occasionally going out scouting alongside Tristram as an extra set of eyes and ears, but she didn't say so much as a word to him. At night she slept alone among many as they all did, close to the fire. When they reached the Roman family in mid-travel one day she sighed in relief. They were half way through this mission with no Woad attacks and the guard that had been sent with the family seemed to have done a decent job protecting them up til now.

Arthur's knights relieved the Roman guard who immediately turned and rode back the way they had come without a second glance. At night several of the knights had to act as guard to cover the whole entourage that had come with the Romans. It was the beginning of the lack of sleep they would all experience until they reached the estate.

Story learned that the Roman man's name was Marius. He was beligerant and moody; a snob, as were all the men she'd seen come from Rome, except Arthur.

The third night after they'd taken over protection of the Roman family, Story sat at her post, keeping watch during the darkest part of the night. She flexed and stretched her muscles to keep her body loose and alert. Breathing in deeply the cool night air she gave herself to her senses. Watching through the moonless night, hearing the soft footfalls of her brothers moving around to keep awake, smelling the remnants of smoke and cooked meat from their fires. Turning her head slightly she opened her mouth just a bit to hear better and a whisper of soft sound floated through the air. A man breathing out. And then a split second later the twang of a bowstring.

"Woads!" The word escaped her lips just as the arrow struck her left thigh.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins and in an instant she had nocked and released an arrow of her own, hearing a grunt in the darkness and the sound of a body falling. And then all hell broke loose.

Dropping her bow she could feel the searing pain of the arrow lodged in her thigh as she broke the shaft, leaving 2 or 3 inches still sticking out of her leg. But the adrenaline took over once again as 20 or 30 Woads spilled from the trees. Pulling her sword from its sheath with her left hand and drawing a dagger with her right she charged towards the blue ghosts, shouting wordlessly. She could just hear the shouts of her brothers as she crashed into the Woad line. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other she effortlessly dodged an axe aimed at her head and twisted her wrist, cutting the man down with her sword. Spinning, she used her dagger to slit the throat of a man who hadn't even known she was there. Finishing her spin she jabbed her sword up into the belly of a man rushing at her. It was ripped from her hand as he fell forward onto his face.

Just then she heard her brothers clash against the Woads, warcries from both sides sounding through the night. A short sword swung across her vision and she lifted her dagger just in time to keep it from taking her arm off. Swinging her body around to face her attacker she punched him hard in the face with her now-free left hand. The Woad staggered backwards and she used the opportunity to kick out with her right foot, connecting squarely with his face and sending him careening backwards. Then, seeing Agravaine finish the man, she spun once again looking for a new target. A different Woad caught her eye as he charged at Kay who was unaware of his presence. Her hand flicked out and her dagger flew true, striking the charging man in the neck sending him to his knees, dying.

Emptyhanded now, she reached down with her left hand to pull her axe from her belt. Using her right hand to draw another dagger, she stopped suddenly and realised she'd broken through the Woad line. She turned just in time to feel a sword slice across her upper arm. The man had been trying to stab her in the back, but the turn had saved her life. Anger blazed through her gut as she swung the dagger around, impaling the man in the heart as he tried to recover from his thrust at her. And as she watched the light fade from his eyes and he dropped to the ground, she felt the bile rise in her throat. Scanning the field she could see the remaining Woads disappear into the trees once again and the other knights finishing off a few of their own battles. And then it all caught up to her and she leaned over, retching violently onto the grass. This always happened after a battle. In the moments of danger during battle she felt nothing, but once it was over she could see the death and destruction, she could smell the blood coming from the dead men laying in the grass around her, and she could taste the sweat and tears dripping onto her lips.

When her stomach had emptied itself she stood again slowly, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. The pain from the arrow still in her thigh made her wince when she put weight on that leg. But she just gritted her teeth and turned to look for the last man she had killed. She reached down and shoved him over, pulling the dagger from his chest, wiping the blade on his arm and then resheathing it. She would clean it better later. The Woad's didn't wear much in the way of battle clothing so she had no cloth to wipe it with at the moment. Scanning the field in the dark it was difficult to tell if any of the men had been hurt, so she decided to retrace her steps and retrieve her weapons, limping through the pain in her thigh.

Just when she had found her sword she heard someone shout her name. Wiping the blade on the man it had been stuck in she looked around trying to locate the caller. It was Dagonet. He made his way to her, stepping over bodies and avoiding wet spots in the grass as best he could in the dark.

"Have you seen one of my daggers?" She asked him absently, looking around her at the men on the ground.

"You are hurt Storane." Dagonet grabbed her arm to get her attention.

She looked at him, frowning. "I know." She looked down at her leg and shrugged a little which reminded her that her arm had been cut as well. Wincing, she shook his hand off. "I have to find my dagger. It should be over here somewhere..." Then she began wandering in the direction she though the man had been when her dagger had struck him.

"Storane." The warning in Dagonet's voice told her she needed to pay attention. "You are losing blood. Come with me." His tone left no room for arguement as he turned and walked away from her.

"Okay. But can you at least send someone to look for it? That was my favorite one."

I know it's not as long as the last one, but I am hoping I'll have another chapter up by tomorow night. So please bare with me! And push the button! Its right there! And it only takes a few claps to bring a failing fairy back to life!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 A different Point of view...Sorta

We had arrived at our outpost. Badon Fort it was called. On the second day there I learned that the commander had told the Roman that was to be our leader that I was his slave; that he had taken me from one of the villages, bought me.

I was furious. I had worked so hard, come so far, only for this bastard Roman to take away the one thing I wanted...knighthood.

The third day he sent guards for me. I struggled all the way to his room, but the guards were strong. When we reached the commander's room the guards came in with me, shoving me to the floor. I already had a busted lip and bruises on my arms by this time. I stood and glared at the commander, spitting blood from my mouth onto his rugs.

He grimaced distastefully at my display. "You have been nothing but trouble to me since we found you at that pathetic little village, girl." He said "girl" like a derogatory term. "And I WILL get something from you in return for my trouble." With that he nodded to the guards, but instead of leaving they grabbed both my arms once more.

I gasped in shock as one of them swung around and punched me in the stomach. All the air rushed out of me and I went limp in their grasp. They dragged me over to the bed and held me sprawled in the middle. As my ability to breath came back to me, I began to struggle once again. I flailed my legs about, kicking one of the guards in the head. The other guard punched me in the face, sending blood spurting from my nose. Then the commander stepped up to me. He was down to just a pair of breeches tied loosely around his waist. I kicked him hard in the stomach and he doubled over. I kicked out again, sending him reeling to the side. I saw a third and fourth guard enter the room and rush over to him. He shouted something I could not understand and pointed at me. The two new guards rushed over and grabbed my legs, holding me down.

I was tiring quickly from the struggle and knew my time to win this fight was dwindling fast. I became almost feral in my attempt to escape the five men. But as I became weaker and weaker the Roman commander grinned in triumph. He looked down on me as my struggles failed and I began to shake violently. I watched the cruelty build in his eyes as silent tears leaked from mine.

He leaned over me and started untying his pants. By then I had a dislocated shoulder, scrapes and bruises on all my arms and legs, a few broken ribs, and one of my eyes was swollen shut.

It was at that moment that I heard a blessed sound.

"Stop what you are doing," said a voice of authority.

)( )( )( )( )( )( )(

*Tristram's POV*

She was like a demon in battle. Spinning and slicing and sidestepping. It was rare that she ever had more than a scratch or two after a fight. But now he could hear her cursing and growling from outside the tent that had been made into a makeshift infirmiry.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" He smirked slightly at her words. "Are you serious? Ah! Damn it! They couldn't find it? Ow! Damn it!"

Percival ducked out of the tent, grinning, as a goblet flew past him out into the camp.

"Can I leave now?" she growled. Then there was a soft murmur that was Dagonet's voice and the tent flap was ripped aside as Storane stormed out, or tried to. It was difficult to storm with a limp. One of her pantlegs was cut up the side to her hip and swung about as she walked by him without a glance. There was a bandage around her left thigh and one around her left upper arm. Her honey-brown hair flew around her shoulders in the wind she created moving so quickly, and people moved out of her way just seeing the expression on her face.

"Kay!" she shouted. "It's your fault the damn thing is missing. Help me find it!"

Tristram just moved quietly toward his horse. Pulling out an apple and a familiar dagger, he began eating as he rode toward the trees.

*Storane's POV*

She sulked for the rest of the ride to the wall and it wasn't until they'd passed through it that she began to move past the lost dagger. They all had to be more alert for an attack. This was Woad territory. They could get through to the Roman estate in a day and a half if they kept moving through the night. And after there had already been one attack south of the wall, even Marius could not argue against getting there as quickly as possible.

A tense sort of silence fell upon the knights and Romans alike as they traveled. No one slept that night. Many times Storane heard bowstrings loosed and arrows flying through the air, but they never struck a human target. The Woads tracked them she knew. She didn't need to hear Tristram say it to know it was true.

When dawn broke, the silence seemed to break with it. Birds began chirping and it felt as if the entourage let out a collective sigh of relief. She knew they were not in any less danger, but it seemed that the Woads had decided to leave them alone for reasons she could not fathom.

They made it to Marius' new estate by midday and oversaw the disbursment of the people. There were already some few there who had prepared things ahead of time. There were walls built and a small village set up just outside of them. They were welcomed warmly, fed, and given lodging for as long as they liked. The food and drink and rest were much welcomed in the mind of Storane. She dismounted her horse just inside the wall and patted him on the rump as a stable hand led him away.

Going to the dining hall she sat with the other knights and enjoyed her food immensly. Dagonet caught her attention from across the table. "I need to see you after we are done eating." She nodded wordlessly. This was not the first time she'd had to visit Dag after a battle so he could check up on her wounds.

"You seem to be in a better mood today," Lancelot said. He raised an eyebrow at Story and smirked a little. When he said this she suddenly remembered the dagger she'd lost in their last fight and she frowned. "Oh come on. Chin up," he said and leaned in closer to her. "You never know where something might turn up."

She glared at him. "Do you have it Lancelot? Because I swear..."

He raised his hands in the air to stop her. "If I had it do you think I'd actually be brave enough to sit next to you and talk about it? That would be suicide!" He chuckled.

She broke into a grin at his enthusiasm. "Sorry. I just miss it. It was my favorite one."

"I understand," he said and she looked questioningly at him. "One time I managed to lose one of my swords..." She guffawed at the thought.

"But they're your only weapons! How did you manage to lose one?"

"I know. I know. I don't remember exactly. I just know that by the end of this one battle it was gone. I was so...lost without it, I guess. It was like suddenly I was missing a limb. And then one day I was drinking a bit at the tavern..."

"Oh...that's surprising," she grinned at him but he just kept talking.

"And there was this particular wench there that night that I had my eye on." Story made an Oooooo face in mock-surprise.

"Well, when I finally convinced her to come back to my room and things were getting...fun...she pulled me down onto the bed and the next thing I knew she was screaming and cursing at me. I was so confused by it all that after she left I just sat down on the bed, dumbfounded. And it was then that I felt what she had felt. That damn sword was laying there perfectly straight under the covers!"

Story laughed throatily. He continued, "I heard nothing but murmurs about how I liked to do "things" with my sword for weeks after that!"

"I remember hearing about those rumors. They were very interesting."

"Well by that point I was so glad I'd gotten my sword back that I didn't care about the wench or the rumors."

"You are funny Lancelot. And thanks for telling me your story. I just hope my dagger turns up soon." He smiled at him again. "You know...we haven't talked in a while. This is nice."

"Yes it is..." he seemed to be waiting for something.

"Would you...like to go for a walk tonight?" She asked him a little hesitantly.

He thought about it for a moment. "Where?"

"I was thinking the garden. The nights have been warm and clear the last few nights, maybe it will stay so for one more night."

"I'll see you there then. Around sunset?" He looked genuinely happy and she nodded at him.

She limped out of the dining hall with a grin on her face and headed toward Dagonet's room.

After he had bandaged her up yet again she went to her room to clean up a little. She only had two pairs of breeches with her since the one pair had been cut on the day of the battle. So she changed into the cleanest ones and replaced her simple armor with a corset-like, leather top. Then she washed and brushed her hair. It was the one thing about herself that she loved. It was long and a dark honey color with just a tiny bit of curl that could really only be seen at the ends.

When she was cleaned up she headed towards the garden. It wasn't quite sunset yet but she thought it would be nice to walk alone for a bit. As she reached the garden she could see the flowers just beginning to bud as it was relatively early in the season. She walked along the path enjoying the sounds of the birds and the smell of the earth.

Just as she came around a bend in the path she saw Lancelot standing there. He was slightly bent at the waist, smelling one of the early-blooming roses right off the path. She could tell he had cleaned up a bit as well.

He was wearing his usual black tunic that brought out the intensity of his eyes. His curly black hair shone in the last of the sun's rays. And then he looked up at her and smiled. It made her stomach flutter a little and she smiled back as he approached her.

"You do look lovely," he said as he reached up and stroked a bit of her hair that had fallen over her shoulder.

"As do you." She smiled innocently and started walking down the path without waiting to see if he followed. He did.

They walked in an easy silence for a while before she finally spoke. "Did you know that everyone I have ever loved has died?" He looked at her, a bit surprised by her abrupt topic. Not sure what to say, he just shook his head.

"My family died when I was very young. My father was butchered before my very eyes." She paused for a long moment. "When I came with all of you into this life...I was trying to protect the woman who had taken me in, and her sick son. I took his place here."

Lancelot took in what she was saying. "That is...very brave."

Storane just shook her head slightly at that. "No. I knew, even then, that I was destined for this life." She stopped walking and turned to look up into his eyes. He could see the pain of these memories and also resignation. "That boy died some time later, and the woman took her own life shortly thereafter. I didn't recieve word of it for years. But when I did...I was...relieved." Her voice was halting and low like she was talking to herself. "I chose the path that was easiest for me..." she stopped.

"It is not easy to leave the ones we love." Lancelot tried to reassure her.

Story's face grew weary. "It was harder for me to be in a house with a family who loved me than to make the choice to give myself to Rome. I loved the woman and her son...but every moment in that house reminded me of the family that had been stolen from me." She sighed. "And when I met all of you...I watched you draw closer to one another. I saw you all become the family you didn't have anymore and would possibly never have again and...I couldn't. But it happened anyway. And the one person I ever told about this other than you...is dead now. Because of me. And I never even got to tell him..." her words drifted to an unclear end.

Lancelot's face was marred by a frown when he finally spoke again. "Bedivere. You were in love with him." It was a statement more than a question. She just stared blankly into the distance, her eyes unfocused, her mind in the past. "It wasn't your fault Story."

She nodded. "I know that. I know. " She seemed at a loss.

"Storane." She finally made eye contact with him. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why did you tell me all of this? Not that I don't appriciate the confidence, but I don't understand."

"I just...I'm just saying..." her words caught in her throat. His hand cupped the side of her face and his thumb caressed her cheek. She whispered, "thank you."

"For what exactly?"

"For giving me...a reason to live. All of you..." her words trailed off again.

"What is it Story?"

She looked up at him and he could see how her eyes were glazed over with tears.

"I'm afraid."

"You? Afraid? How could that be?" He asked jokingly. But when he saw her shoulders begin to tremble as she looked down at her feet, his manner changed. He reached out and pulled her close to him, stroking her soft hair.

After a few moments of this he heard her breathe deeply to calm herself. And then she whispered something he didn't think he was meant to hear.

"Don't you see? If I love you...you will die."

He pushed back from her and lifted her chin with a finger. Her tear-stained eyes looked up at him and, for the first time in all the years he had known her, he could see the little girl she never really got the chance to be.

"Story. What if we die anyway? Wouldn't you have wasted the time we all have together...keeping us at a distance?"

When she heard these words something inside of her snapped. Reaching up she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down into a kiss. It was long and intense. His arms wrapped around her body and her breath quickened. When they finally parted, Lancelot leaned his forehead against hers.

"Thank you Lancelot." She smiled up at him. "I have to go."

Hehe! So sorry to leave you all hanging...but not really! I'm so sorry this took so long! I really struggled with it. But I finally know where all of this is going! Yay! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Push the little blue button!


	7. Chapter 7

**So after a 2-year hiatus (sorry about that) I'm back! Hope you enjoy! I own nothing but Story.**

The Roman's head whipped around at the sound of the voice and an intense anger burned in his eyes.

"How dare you enter my quarters uninvited!" he snapped at the young man who stood in the entrance.

I lifted my head weakly and my eyes rested on a boy I know had to be Arthur. Woad by birth, Roman by right. Even at such a young age he had distinguished himself enough to be known to me even before setting foot inside the fort. As I watched, he stepped forward, further into the living quarters, revealing several other young men behind him. Young men that I knew.

"You will release this woman immediately or your actions will be made known to an authority higher than you."

The Commander was seething. "She is mine! Bought and paid for! I will do with her as I like!"

"If she is yours, I would see the papers of sale." Arthur intoned quietly.

The Commander's face took on a slightly terrified look, and Arthur nodded his head knowingly. The Roman had presumptuously assumed that no one would dare to question his word. He didn't know Arthur.

There was a long silence and then, "So it is." Arthur stated. "You will release her immediately to my care as she is one of my knights."

"She cannot be a knight. She is a girl. It is against our laws."

"What law states that a woman cannot be a _Sarmation_ knight?" Arthur paused, waiting for a reply. When none was forthcoming he continued. "It is tradition to take a young Sarmation boy, but not law. And since you failed to see the difference between a boy and a girl, I shall do with _my_ knight as I see fit." Arthur's intense gaze bore into the Commander's frightened eyes.

At this the Roman stepped back from where he had been defensively guarding me, his prey, and signaled the guards who dropped my limbs roughly to the bed. My head collapsed back onto the bed and a soft sob escaped my throat.

I hear Arthur speak again. "Tristram, take her to the infirmary. Tell Dagonet what happened." I felt gentle arms pick me up and I groaned as pain lashed through my ribcage. I looked up into those hazel eyes I had seen once before with the dark brown braid falling across his vision, and I grinned as my eyes closed. I finally had a name to go with those eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"I have to go," she said, and turned quickly and walked away. Her step quick and light. Lancelot stood at a loss, his hand still hanging in the air where a moment ago it had caressed her hair.

"What?" he said. But she was already too far away to hear.

Story felt at peace in a way she never had before. She marched through the garden feeling vibrant and alive, and she knew exactly where she was headed.

*Tristram's POV*

As he stood at the top of the wall surrounding the Marius' estate, watching the sun set, his hawk-like eyes caught sight of a movement in the garden below. He recognized the blonde-haired beauty strolling down the lane. Even at ease in a protected place she looked on guard. He watched her approach the tall, dark-haired man that could only be Lancelot.

They spoke for a moment, too far away to be heard by even Tristram's keen ears. Then she moved on. Lancelot followed. They seemed to be playing a game at first. Cat and mouse.

As Storane danced around Lancelot, Tristram smiled at ther ways. He had seen it many times. Then suddenly something changed. She seemed serious, taut like a wire pulled to the limit. Lancelot hugged her and when she pulled away, Tristram could see tears in here eyes. Time seemed suspended for a moment and then he watched as Story tangled her fingers in Lancelot's hair and pulled him in to an intense kiss. His teeth ground together and he quickly turned away, anger boiling its way through his veins. Every time! Every time he tried to show her, every time he extended an invitation she turned her back on him! Did she not understand? Was she purposely trying to push him away?

These thoughts raced through his mind as his footsteps took him down stairs and through hallways he didn't quite see. His anger coursed through him and he pulled up suddenly in front of a door he recognized. Her door. Without thinking, he pulled out the dagger he had picked off a body after the Woad battle on the way to this place. His eyes lingered on the delicate blade and the worn leather grip. And then the anger was back and his fingers curled around the hilt and in a swift motion he slammed the point of the blade into the frame of her door and he stormed down the hall. He needed to get away. He needed to clear his mind of her. He needed room to breath.

Before he knew it he was at the stables, swinging the large door open. And there she was. The one person in the world he couldn't resist, and the one person in the world he wanted out of his head.

Hit the button! You know you want to!


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